


Up All Night

by ChoiM



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Future Fic, Gen, World Figure Skating Championships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-20 11:53:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13717134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChoiM/pseuds/ChoiM
Summary: Victor and Yuuri haven't met for another three years and Victor is retiring.





	Up All Night

Silver haired man stood surrounded by flashes, as a mob of reporters asked questions at the same time. It was a familiar sight, one that used to bring him joy, but not any longer. Now, the man wished he could see his dog and cuddle him. He wished for peace to mourn his beloved pet he didn't get to see one last time. What place is there for him to call home now?

He made his choices the moment he stepped on the podium as the Junior Grand Prix winner, as he accepted that gold medal and every single one that came after that . Peace wasn't in the offer, it never was. Yet, he didn't mind it at the moment.

Currently in the run for his 7th Grand Prix gold in row, the man smiled at the reporter whose name he has forgotten and decided to let his skating do the talking this time . Nor did he have any comments nor did he want to share. They can watch and, if he's lucky, they'll see his cry for help.

Things have changed, even his coach said so. No one could say exactly when, the change was graduate. His spark has faded, his inspiration left him. Two times Olympics winner no longer had the body of a twenty year old so he decided to officially announce his retirement after this competition. He knew the skating world wouldn't miss him. Maybe they'd even be glad to see him go, to witness a rising of a brand new star, a breath of fresh air. Yes, his titles would be remembered , every medal he had won, but who would remember him? Victor Nikiforov? Who could remember him when there was no one he knows?

~~~

"And now," a voice echoed through the stadium, "winner of the Grad Prix Final 7th year in a row, representing Russia, Victor Nikiforov." 

The man, Victor, skated to the middle of the rink. Single, purple light illuminated the arena. Thousands of people were all around him. Some seated, some standing. All of them clapping. 

There was utter silence. Voices were lost somewhere between the man and the audience. As if he was under water, his vision was blurry, his hearing limited to statics. Statics and music. Notes, he could hear notes. Automatically, his legs moved, his head rose. Victor's skates cut the ice, his body in sync with melody like never before. All of it felt too personal. Every spin, jump and step sequence, all of it felt like he was showing too much. 

Not one person deserved to see his soul. Not when their claps ripped it apart. They felt entitled to the best. Like he was supposed to bear his heart, only for them to give him lukewarm smile, like they expected everything he's done.

Through the years he showed them love and hate, joy, pain, sadness, longing. Every emotion he could think of, but most of he never felt.

This season's theme, however, he felt in every inch of his being. 

For a long time, he couldn't connect with his skating. His technical score was high enough so no one could touch him, or maybe even judges were so used to him winning gold, they'd slip him few more presentation points than he deserved. It was only appropriate that his last publicly skated program leaves the arena in silence he felt at the beginning. 

As he struck his last pose, his exhibition skate now behind him, and last notes of Moonlight sonata rung out, he remembered. This was a feeling he was missing. Leaving people stunned, surprised. 

 _Thank you,_  he thought, _for letting me feel this one last time._

 ~~~

Everyone who knew Katsuki Yuuri could tell you that, when sober, he was a nervous wreck around Victor. For three years now, he's been skating on the same ice as his idol. Few times they even shared the podium. Yet, much to Yuuri's suffering, he never mustered up enough courage to actually talk to him. 

This time,  as Victor exited the ice and headed for the changing room, Yuuri hurried after him. His coach, Celestino, yelled after him but Japanese skater paid him no mind. Without even realizing it, he had started running. In no time he was across the rink, fully aware of the fans attention on him. Not really caring, he bolted through doors, finding himself in a hallway, catching a glimpse of Victor's hair. 

"Victor!" Yuuri called out, his voice stronger than one would predict it would be after spending years of mumbling nonsense in his idol's presence. Perhaps it was because the older man in front of him wasn't his idol. Victor Nikiforov, the living legend, was now retired but something made Yuuri believe that man simply ceased to exist. Victor Nikiforov, with tired, lifeless eyes and tears on his cheeks, now stood in front of him.

"Are you..." Yuuri started. "I mean..." 

"I'm sorry, but I'm not feeling up to taking photos at the moment." Fake smile spread on Victor's face and it looked heartbreaking, you wouldn't recognize the man who dominated on ice barely few minutes ago. 

Yuuri has seen that look on himself many times; before an important skate, around the very man he was now talking to, when he got the call three years ago about Vicchan, when Phichit told him he's moving out... Yuuri was no stranger to the emotion of... of being helpless - Victor's theme for the season he never intended to finish. Words died in his throat. No matter how many times he felt exactly as Victor does right now, Yuuri had no idea what to say to help. 

He couldn't... He wouldn't just let Victor leave. Victor was crying and he had no one to help him just as he had no one many times before. But why was Victor crying? Many skaters retire years before him and he could've finished the season had he wanted to. Never mind that he had been offered numerous of coaching jobs already, all of which he rejected. 

Helpless. 

Yuuri rushed a few steps, now standing directly in front of Victor. "Sumimasen," Yuuri repeated as he hugged him, his voice quieter and quieter every time he said it. 

Victor, who initially froze at his touch, was now shaking, sobbing into Yuuri's shoulder.

"Sumimasen," Yuuri whispered, not really knowing what he was apologizing for. 

~~~

Victor recognized the Japanese man who's shirt he just cried into. He calmed down after few minutes, not understanding what happened to send him over the edge. They managed to get to the changing room, where Victor was originally heading, in somewhat awkward silence but Yuuri stayed within arms reach of him all of the time, their hands occasionally brushing against each other. It wasn't much but it gave Victor comfort, knowing he wasn't all alone, at least not at the moment. 

"Could you," Yuuri started. "Could you stay here? I'll be right back." Not really knowing what to do, Victor nodded and the younger man ran out of the doors like he was on fire. 

Right. Victor knew he wasn't coming back. Why would he? Yuuri probably wanted to take a photo with a living legend, of course he didn't have to deal with the mess Victor was right now.

A heartbeat passed. Two. Victor untied his skates and put on his shoes. Slowly, he packed his stuff in a gym bag and turned off the lights in the room. His hand lingered on the door knob for a few seconds. Yuuri wasn't coming back.

Victor exited the changing room, never knowing that if he waited for ten more seconds, a Japanese skater would call out his name as he rounded the corner, steaming cup of tea in his hands. 

~~~

Mila, Yuri, Yakov, Georgi, Chris...

None of them understood. They were Victor Nikiforov friends, not Victor's. Sometimes he just wanted to be Victor. But take skating away from his life, and what did he have? Nothing. All his life Victor was so caught up in being a gold medalist, he had forgotten who he was when there was no flashes of camera. Still, he used to have Makkachin. But not for a year now. 

His apartment in St. Peterburg seemed empty. Not one indication of it being a home. There was no picture frames on the walls, no voices save from the tv. The place felt hollow. How appropriate that so did its owner. 

A month passed from exhibition gala, but he hasn't so much as stepped on the ice. Home. Ice was home to him years ago. Home to his soul. Makkachin was his home.

How long can a soul go without home? For a month, a year? Whichever it was, Victor was pushing its limits. 

He should leave St. Peterburg and Russia, as he no longer felt at peace there. Even more, he was restless more and more every time he woke up before dawn, calling Makka to take him for a walk only to realize he is gone. Victor booked a flight that was to leave in three hours, he didn't bother checking the destination. Only thing that mattered was that he leaves soon because he felt as if he couldn't breath. 

With a bag filled with less than a week's clothes, he left his apartman. Victor made mental note to text Yakov he won't be at practice any time soon before he remembered Yakov wouldn't care. He had retired, Yakov isn't his coach any more. He is alone. 

Ride to the airport wasn't long. Cab driver didn't talk. Neither did Victor.

Pay and go. Check in and board. Leave. 

"This is your captain speaking," a voice said, "We'll be landing in Dubai around five p.m. We hope you have a nice flight."

~~~

Victor Nikiforov, legend of figure skating, broke the Internet not two months after his retirement. 

~~~

World Figure Skating Championship came with the March. Yuuri felt as if the wound was still too fresh. His theme for the year, redemption, felt like a joke. Nevertheless, he managed to medal, just barely placing above Canadian skater and getting bronze. 

For exhibition gala he skated the same program as he did for the rest of the season, but it wasn't the one he wanted to skate. Yet, skating his other program in front of anybody made him feel like fainting. It was bad enough Axel, Lutz and Loop had a recording of it they filmed while sneaking in on the practice. Thankfully, even they understood it wasn't something to be paraded around in public. 

Somehow, mid skate, he stopped hearing music. His body moved, even if his mind didn't approve of what was happening. His fans, no matter how few, would notice he changed the program. Thankfully, the same music still played to the rest of the arena. 

With his eyes closed, Yuuri skated for thousands to see and none to understand. There were no jumps in the few minutes he had on ice, but one, at the very end. He spun, and twirled and he felt as if he was flying. 

He closed his eyes once more, remembering when he first skated this program, remembering how the song filled Ice Castle.

_Where did I go wrong_

Yuuri skated backwards, bending his leg

_I lost a friend_

He used right toepick to launch in the air,

_Somewhere along in the bitterness_

He spun once. 

_And I would have stayed up with you all night_

Twice. 

_Had I known_

Trice.

_How to save_

Four times. 

_A life_

One time Katsuki Yuuri could've landed quad lutz, he purposely feel.

_How to save a life_

In his memory, the last notes of the song rung out. 

_How to save a life_

Yuuri did not stand up. 

**Author's Note:**

> First thing I ever wrote so please don't be too harsh.  
> Hope you liked it <3


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